


Gun Kink

by Persephone_Van_Dyke



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Gunplay, Guns, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone_Van_Dyke/pseuds/Persephone_Van_Dyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://eleventy-kink.livejournal.com">eleventy_kink</a> prompt: <i>River/Jack, gun kink, voyeur!Eleven if you wish.  P.S., forgot to mention dirty talk as a bonus.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Gun Kink

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for the lovely Cleopatra, who asked very nicely for a sequel to [Bad Influences](http://archiveofourown.org/works/253788).
> 
> Can also be read as a standalone.
> 
> Not my characters, not making any money from this. 

'You wouldn't really have confiscated our guns, would you, sweetie?'

It's a low little murmur, whispered in the Doctor's ear as Jack and River snuggled up to him on the aircraft seat, providing affection and aftercare. Tables turned, honour satisfied, they'd teased and topped him til he was exhausted, because he was (among other things) cheeky enough to threaten to take their respective weapons away.

Now, finally post-orgasmic and drifting, he whispered, 'Prob'ly. We'd all be safer if you didn't have them.'

'You know it doesn't work like that,' muttered Jack, but without rancour. He's adjusted, by now, to the Doctor's double standard, where he hates guns but is frequently rescued by people who use them. And (because he was there when Davros said it) Jack knows the Doctor is aware of it too. But he'd defy the Doctor if it meant being able to protect him, and if that meant carrying a gun - his shoulders twitched in a tiny shrug - then _fine_.

'Why do you like guns so much, River?' asked the Doctor, dozily. He's feeling very calm, almost light-headed.

'Partly good associations,' she said, catching Jack's eye and smiling warmly at him over the Doctor's mussed hair.

'Ooh, yeah.' Jack's reverie lifted, to be replaced by a much better set of memories; teaching River Song how to shoot.

_Luna University had a shooting club, and she'd joined in her first week. Jack (whose day job by then was lecturing on 20th century Earth history, one of her first-year subjects) offered to teach her to shoot, because if she was going to travel with the Doctor, she'd probably need all the advantages she could get._

_Most people reacted to Jack's full-body training technique by being a bit distracted, and that's a result in itself, because if you can shoot straight when your mind is half-elsewhere, then you're ready for some tricky situations. Which is partly (but not entirely) why Jack taught his team in Cardiff to shoot with the maximum of distraction._

_But River had lined up the gun with the target, looking along the length of her arm, while her other hand slid between their bodies and groped him expertly._

_'You said "Squeeze gently", she had whispered, leaning back against him a little. 'Like this?'_

_She realigned her head, looking straight along the gunsight, and fired, and with each shot the tiny shock of recoil through her made her jolt against his body, caused her grip to tighten fractionally, making him twitch and swell against her hand, powerless to move, painfully turned on._

_He knew then that he had finally met his match._

'But it's not just that,' he said, 'is it? It's - '

She raised her eyebrows.

'It's a cock, right?' He grinned at her. 'It's phallic.'

'Why would I need a cock?' she asked, innocently. 'That's such a _man_ thing to say. Have you been talking to Freud?'

'I'm officially banned from talking to Freud ever again,' Jack said, a hint of a grin showing through. The Doctor gave a tiny groan, between them, as the memory of that particular encounter made his Timelord senses twinge.

'Well, if guns are cocks, then what does that make yours?' she asked, indicating the holster at Jack's belt. 'Compensating, are you?'

Jack grinned. 'You _know_ I don't need to compensate,' he said, with a flick of his eyebrows.

'So why?'

Jack shrugged. 'It's 80% practicality,' he said. 'Dangerous job, never know when you'll need one. Fifteen percent nostalgia - I carried this through both world wars, brought it back to Cardiff with me - cause Torchwood never issued me with a gun, they didn't trust me back then - and just hung on to it. It's a good gun.'

'And the other five percent?' asked the Doctor.

'Yeah, the other five percent it's kinky,' said Jack. 'But I don't let that near the work side of it.'

'Kinky how?' demanded the Doctor, who was looking more animated. 'Jack, you've _been_ shot, you've been threatened with guns, you've seen other people threatened and shot, which must have been worse - '

Jack's face is shadowed again, he's hearing the Doctor out but it's tough on him.

' - _how_ can you go from that to "Guns are sexy"? Or, for that matter, River, how can you?'

'Because what you're scared of is often your next kink,' River said. 'Making something sexy, making it a game, making it _consensual_ \- that's one of the ways humans deal with their fears. You like handcuffs, but you hate being tied up for real. The difference is - you tell me. What's the difference?'

'If I say "Raxacoracofallapatorius", you untie me,' said the Doctor, promptly. 'I know I'm safe with you.'

'But you get a kick from being tied up when you know you can stop it,' River said. 'It's a way of looking at your fear of being tied up for real - facing it in a manageable way.'

'Yeah,' Jack agreed. 'It's like telling jokes about something that's really uncomfortable to talk about. You relieve some of the tension around a subject by treating it as a game. Same with kink. It's how you take something you fear and desire, or something that you fear your desire of, and make it safe. Well, saf- _er_.' He took a breath.

'But I'll tell you the _really_ kinky bit. The way I get off on a gun kink if I'm submitting, that's one thing, that's a game, I'm pretty rarely outside my comfort zone with that. What I find scarier - and therefore hotter, but also much more difficult to play - is when I'm the top. When I'm in a scene where I'm pointing a gun at someone else - how that feels... _That's_ what scares the living hell out of me.'

'But it gets you rock-hard too, doesn't it?' asked River.

'Ooh, yeah!' A slightly shaky laugh from Jack. 'Which is even more scary.'

He paused.

'There you go, Doctor. Now you know a real secret. There are kinks I have that even freak _me_ out. I'm not quite as comfortable with myself as you thought.'

River reached over, stroked his hair gently.

'Well said,' she said, kindly, quiet praise for the nerve it took for Jack to confess that.

The Doctor shrugged, got up from between them.

'Well, I don't totally understand it, but you're both grown-ups, and you know what you're doing,' he said, and for the Doctor, in relation to guns, that was a fullblown oration in praise of exploring their kinks.

He dipped down, kissed Jack swiftly on the forehead, a small gesture of understanding. Jack shut his eyes, almost holding his breath. Even with their on-off sexual relationship, moments like this when the Doctor fully notices and acknowledges his existence are agonisingly precious. It will take quite a few more of them before the wounds of that century of abandonment completely heal.

'Tea,' announced the Doctor. 'I'm going to make tea. You two want any?'

'I'm good thanks,' Jack said. River shook her head, and moved over to sit next to Jack as the Doctor left the room.

'So, River Song,' Jack said, 'why do _you_ like guns so much?'

'Cause they're so phallic, silly!' she said.

Jack looked blank.

'Sometimes I don't tell the Doctor the whole truth,' she said. 'If I don't think he's ready for it.'

'Ooh, you bad bad girl.' Jack grinned. His breath is slightly short. Neither he or River have so much as undressed yet, and there's a promise in her eyes that says she's ready to play.

'So, Jack. How scared are you by subbing to a girl with a gun, really?'

'Not so much if you promise to unload it first,' he said. 'Though - come to think of it - we're in a state of temporal grace in here - ' he gestured round the Tardis console room.

'You're forgetting Rule One,' River said. 'That's a clever lie.'

'Naw, really?' Jack is surprised. 'He had me fooled.'

River looked at him appraisingly.

'How about making this a little bit switchy?' she suggested. 'I like to play it both ways.' She raised her eyebrows, smiling a wicked little smile. 'If you're interested.'

Jack swallowed. Normally, given what he'd just confessed, he'd have hesitated. But he trusts River enough, knows she will have no hesitation calling her safeword and stopping him, and that she'll know what's going on in his head. He feels ready to try it out.

He unholstered his service revolver, snapped it open, and tipped the bullets carefully out into his cupped hand, while River left the room to fetch her gun. Jack carefully checked each chamber of the gun was empty, and then deposited the bullets in a space on the console.

River came back, did the same with her Colt, then they silently swapped guns and checked again that they were unloaded. River and Jack have stood side by side loading guns in some scary situations, and they have what almost amounts to a routine. Though with a slightly hotter agenda than usual, this time.

Satisfied they were safe, they swapped back, then turned to look at each other. Almost like the beginning of a dance, waiting for a rhythm to kick in so they could move together.

River started it, stepped forward into Jack's space, one hand curving neatly over the holster on his belt, the other moving to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. She's almost groping the smooth leather, fingering it luxuriously, hungrily, while their lips part and their tongues slip in and out of each others' mouths, hungrily. The turnon of earlier - the excitement of playing with the Doctor - burned up in them again, and the kiss was interspersed with little gasps of desire.

Then River, keen to raise the stakes, slipped her hand upwards to the back of Jack's head, then locked her fist tight in his hair and wrenched his head back. He froze, a shudder coursing through him, lips parted.

'On your knees,' she ordered, almost casually. He dropped, obediently, the metal floor clanged slightly as he knelt at her feet. His hands are behind his back, his chin up. He knows how to behave when River uses that voice on him.

'So, you know all about phallic symbols, don't you,' she said, idly, fingers still twisted in his hair, gentler now, stroking him. 'Quite the expert. So maybe I should let you play with mine...hm?'

She is brilliant at this. Her voice is still warm, affectionate, even while she's taking complete control. Even when -

Jack's eyes flick to her hand. She picked her gun up off the console, moved back towards him, and laid the barrel against his cheek.

A shock of cold cold metal. He gasped, instinctively tried to lean away.

'No, _stay_ ,' she ordered.

He could feel the chill of the ice-cold barrel through to his back teeth. She dragged the muzzle across his cheek, gently as if it was her fingers, then under his chin, grazing the soft, agonizingly vulnerable skin of his throat.

She raised the barrel, tipped his chip up, forced him to look at her.

'Do you like it?' she said. 'Is it bigger that yours?'

There's a smart answer to that somewhere, in the back of Jack's mind, something to do with whether she meant his Webley, which is slimmer and neater, or his cock, which - well, it feels pretty damn big right now, even compressed against his thigh by the fit of his trousers.

What he managed to say is 'Hnh?'

'What?' a newly sharp tone.

'Yes, it is - ma'am,' and even as he says it his brain spins into a sudden doubt - _shitshouldIhavecalledherSir_?

'Thought so.' She sounds smug. 'Now, I know what you like doing with big, hard cocks, Jack.'

He's keeping his expression neutral, but the tell is in the way his eyes widen very slightly.

'So, come on then,' she took a step closer, one of her feet planted between his knees, her body lining up with the gun hand which was still tilting his chin up. 'Want a taste?'

Jack took a breath, leaned a little closer, just enough to brush his lips over the muzzle of the gun. He can smell it, smell the oil and metal and the faint firework scent of the last time it was fired. He kissed the tip, letting his lower lip brush over it, the way he does when he's teasing a guy.

'Yes,' breathed River. 'Again.' Her breath sounds very slightly ragged, just a hint, the merest halt of her words to tell him that the sight just sent a throb of excitement right down through her.

He kissed the tip again, this time for a half a second longer, taking it between his lips before drawing away again.

'You're teasing me, Jack,' River said, lightly. 'Which is very sexy and very clever, but I'm ever so hard and excited and I can't wait for you to keep doing that.' She was close to him now, her skirt hem almost touching his chest, her gun hand resting lightly on her mound so she was, in posture, mimicking a man holding out his cock to an eager lover.

'I want you to suck it,' she growled, pushing the muzzle gently but insistently between his lips. 'I want to to suck my cock. I know you like doing it, and I know how good you are at it.'

Jack, his lips forced apart, glanced up, flashed her a vulnerable, hungry look, and without losing eye contact, took the barrel slowly in his mouth.

There's a whole lot of techniques to going down on a guy, and Jack knows pretty much all of them. They break down, in his experience, to two broad categories - ones intended to get someone off, which are generally fast, repetitive, and include hands as well, and ones intended to look hot, tease, or turn on, which are slow and sensual with lots of eye contact, and clever use of tongue and teeth. They're just outlines, and the possibilities are extensive, but since what he's giving River is a visual experience, he's going for the latter type.

He took the gun in, then pulled away again, working the underside with the flat of his tongue, then flicking the tip round the muzzle, over the bump of the sight, circling first one way, then the other. The taste is strong, metallic, and the cold is harsh on his mouth. His keeps from bumping it with his teeth with expert precision, and then leans away again, licks up the top surface, plants kisses along the barrel.

It's good. Even concentrating on using his repertoire of tricks on it as if the Colt were sensate, the transgressive, almost obscene sensation of licking and sucking a gun isn't lost on him. There's a luscious frisson of danger, violence, he is playing, play-acting, at the worship of weapons, the horrifying power dynamic. And River Song, smiling her sexiest smile, is looking down on him, watching him do it.

She gave a little jolt of her hips.

'Come on, sweetheart,' she breathed, 'You can suck me a bit harder than that. Can't you feel how hard I am? Can't you feel what a big, _powerful_ cock I've got?'

Jack controls his breathing with an effort, struggling not to gasp. It's tricky when she says things like that.

'I want you,' she's talking with many pauses now and in each pause, she gives a little thrust, edging into his mouth, 'to take me in. As deep. And as hard. As you can. I want you. To deepthroat me. Can you do that?'

Jack looked up, met her eye. Gave a tiny nod. _Ohgodyes_! It's not always the easiest thing, to relax his throat enough for this, but once he's into a submissive headspace he finds it gets easier.

For River, the sight of Jack expertly sucking off her gun is astonishingly hot. She can almost feel it, the sensations mapping on to the arousal swirling in her, the wet, sensual stroking and sucking and kissing of her notional cock. She can feel the heat and swell of her pussy, imagine so clearly the feel of Jack's lips and tongue working her cleverly close to her peak.

And, at the same time, she's so in control, the most in control she can safely be. Even though her finger is well clear of the trigger the way he's taught her, she has him utterly at her mercy.

She can see, looking down, Jack's erection pressing up hard under his fly, distorting the cut of his trousers.

'Oh, I can see how much you like this,' she breathed. 'You're _very_ turned on, having my swollen, rigid dick in your mouth, aren't you?'

Jack, unable to answer, was focused on working the barrel deeper now, further into his mouth, and his lower lip came to rest at the end of the barrel at the same time he felt the sight slide past his gag reflex and press the very back of his throat.

'That's it,' River almost moaned, making tiny, gentle moves with her hips. He can smell her arousal now, sharp and salty and delicious, a faint harmonic to the strong scent of gun. 'That's it, feel me filling up your mouth? Like it?'

An indistinct noise. Jack's lips and tongue and throat feel terrifyingly soft and vulnerable, fragilely fleshy against the unyielding metal. He swayed a little, his cheeks drawing in as he sucked, sliding the gun halfway out of his mouth then back in, deep as he could.

'Keep doing that,' she whispered.

'And I might - ' she pushed a little deeper,

' - just - ' her thumb stroked the hammer, a few inches from Jack's face, right in the centre of his vision. Just a stroke, a tiny threat to cock and fire the gun.

' - _explode_ '.

His eyes shut, involuntarily, he made another slight move to lean away before controlling himself. This was the point, this was when he found out how much he got off on danger. Because the scariest thing she could do would be to cock the Colt, and even the thought frightens him, but still he's almost painfully aroused.

He glanced up at her again, flashed her the most hungry, vulnerable, submissive look he could muster.

And when her eyelids dipped, just for a second, and her attention left him as she felt a fresh wave of excitement, he moved at bewildering speed.

One hand, which had been clasped neatly behind his back all this time, grabbed her wrist, wrenched the gun out of his mouth, and pushed it away from between them so it pointed outwards, well away from them both. The other drew his own gun even as he sprang to his feet, instantly gaining the advantage of height, strength, and surprise, and pointed the antique pistol right at her face.

'Drop it,' he ordered, coolly.

She dropped her own gun, which clattered to the floor, and raised her hands, surrendering. Her breath was coming in big surprised gasps that made her chest heave, and he gave himself a second to watch, relishing the sudden alteration of the dynamic (and allowing him time to think, because he can appreciate gorgeous breasts and come up with strategy at the same time, and in fact often does).

'That was fun,' he said, 'But I think it's your turn now.'

'To do what?' she asked, breathlessly.

'To do what, _Sir_?' he corrected, sharply. His face is taut, severe, suddenly inexpressive.

'To do what, Sir?' River is getting the feel for her submissive mode now. She's much more serious, almost solemn, when submitting. Her voice lowers to a range of quiet deference. Jack knows it's an act, but that doesn't bother him

'To feel this,' he whispered, and stroked the barrel of his pistol against her cheek, the way she had to him.

'See, this very definitely _isn't_ my cock,' he breathed. 'If you're a good girl, maybe that comes later. What this is,' the sight edges down her neck, lightly, as if he's drawing a line on her with the chilly blue-black barrel, 'is a cold, hard, deadly weapon. That iss very close to you.' His voice has sunk to a whisper. 'Oh, so close, and so cold, and just a little bit _frightening_. Am I right?'

Jack is not, in these circumstances, a nice top. There's no warmth in his tone, no apparent affection. Just a cool, manipulative, amoral lust. The only reason River stays in the game with him is because she's played with this side of Jack before, and she knows that it's all an act. A sexy, borderline-terrifying act. One of her favourite sorts.

The coldness has reached her breast, and then he uses the tip of the gun, with a sharp little movement that makes her flinch, to tug the material of her dress off one of her shoulders, leaving it bare but for the thin strap of her bra.

'You're the one who gets all excited about guns,' he breathed, moving a fractions closer so she can feel the heat of him on her bare skin. He walked round her, tracing the muzzle across her upper arm, between her shoulders, up the nape of her neck, before withdrawing it. She feels the build of a shiver that she can't quite repress. She failed, and the little quiver of her shoulders and upper back told him the effect he was having.

'You excited about this?' he asked, his body close to her back, his voice a breath on her ear, and the gun tracing down again, this time between her breasts, his free hand tugging the dress free of the other shoulder so it slipped down, and he could guide the Webley all the way down to her navel, eliciting another shudder. 'You like being stripped at gunpoint, hm?

'Yes, Sir,' she said, promptly, her voice deliberately steady. Feeling him behind her is slightly scary, because she can't read his face.

'Any guesses where this is going?' he hissed in her ear. 'We've gotten beyond sucking it now, haven't we? Maybe I'll use it to make you shiver, all over,' he gave her dress a brutal little tug, freeing it to slip down over her hips and fall in a crumple at her feet. The gun is still cold, like an ice cube dragged over her hypersensitive flesh.

'Or maybe I'll use it to cool off your hot, excited little clit,' he suggested. It's trailing a tiny scratch of chill down the surface of her thigh now, almost down to her knee. All her attention is locked on it, the icy sensation, the sight of the slim, neat little gun, Jack's hand cupping the butt of it, his finger stroking gently on the trigger guard.

'Or perhaps,' and it's taking a jump, over her mound, and wandered back up to where her nipples are peaked and stiff though her bra, flipped the tip of one of them, made her give an audible gasp, 'perhaps you'd like me to fuck you with it?'

Even as he said it, his own cock gave a hungry twitch, the magic of harsh desirous words catching him so he had to struggle to keep his voice steady.

' _Oh_!' murmured River, intensely turned on, a shock of fear and desire.

'Maybe you'd like to feel me push the shaft into you,' he growled, circling her nipple. He's not touching her anywhere else, just the point of the gun on her breast and the wave of warmth from him on her back. 'Would you like that? Would you like to feel me open you up with a cold, hard revolver and push it deep inside you? Think about it,' he ordered, softly, once more sliding the shaft down across the curve of her belly. 'Think how much of a kinky, perverted girl you'd have to be to want a gun-barrel rammed into your pussy.'

She shut her eyes briefly. She could feel the aching hunger building up, deep in her, and she didn't care how kinky or perverse it was, she wanted to be fucked.

'Well?' he snapped, and her eyes opened suddenly wide.

'Yes,' she gasped. 'Please, Sir, yes. I want you to fuck me.'

In an instant, he had spun her round so she could lean back on the console, placed her hands either side of her so she had something to hang on to, sunk once more to his knees in front of her. But this time, the dynamic was clear - he was totally in control. Almost roughly, he pulled aside the material of her pants, revealing her lips, swelled and damp with excitement, and the peeking tip of her clit, bright pink and swollen.

'Ready for this?' he asked, softly, and for a second he was out of the scene, real, affectionate, and she felt a tiny twinge of relief that he was still there, behind the cold commanding-officer facade.

'Yes,' she gasped, and he raised the gun again, and gently stroked the round side of the barrel down over her outer lips to slide alongside her clit, stroking it smoothly, slowly, and forcing a whimper from her lips.

'Oooh, you're so turned on,' he said, smooth and distant. 'Never seen you so wet. This is what playing with guns does for you, huh?'

He rubbed the barrel along her lips again, then speeded up, dragging it quickly back and forth, giving her clit some friction and making her arch her neck and moan out load.

' _Please_ ,' she whimpered. 'Please, I need it - '

Jack took the gun away. Suddenly, nothing is touching her but the edge of the console under her hands.

'Say it,' he ordered. The gun is resting lightly on his knee. Not even pointing at her.

'I want you to fuck me,' she said, quietly

'No, say it properly, River. Tell me what a kinky little gun-fetishist you really are. Tell me _exactly_ what you want me to do.'

Even so aroused she's almost shaking, it takes a mental leap to get all the words out.

'I - I wa - I want you to fuck me with your gun,' she gasped. He raised one eyebrow, asking without words for more.

'I want to feel you slip your cold, hard revolver inside me,' she said, gathering courage in desperation, 'and fuck me with it. I want you to slide it in and out of my wet, slippy cunt - '

'Oh, _yeah_ ,' and again, a flicker of him, warm and aroused as she is. 'That's what I'd call asking nicely.'

And finally, he raised the gun and slipped the muzzle between her lips, sliding it home all the way to the trigger guard in her aching cunt.

It felt so good, after all the anticipation, that she yelled out, a half-strangled yelp as he pulled it out, almost all the way, to within half an inch of the end.

'Don't _stop_!' she cried, and he gave a twist, turned the revolver by ninety degrees and pushed it back into her. He doesn't stop, but he keeps it slow enough that she can't start moaning, because he wants her to hear every word of this.

'You like the feel of this, don't you?' he said, insinuatingly, 'the cold, and the hardness of it and the _danger_. Cause, you know what I could do?' He's working it a little faster now, angled so the bump of the gunsight is against her G-spot. River's fingers are working her swollen clit, and he's watching the fast pace of her hand and the incongruous, deeply arousing sight of the slim blue-black gun-barrel sliding fast into her slick, hot cunt.

'I could - if I wanted, I could cock it - ' she's speeded up, frantically fast, and he's found the angle she likes, and is moving with her,

' - you know when the mechanism locks into place and there's this little sound that vibrates right through the grip and the barrel? I bet you'd _feel_ that, cause your clit is so so sensitive right now.'

'Mmmh?' It's a half-sound, wordless, confused, desperate.

'And then,' he's speeding, fucking her as fast as she can take it, and he know's she's close because her muscles are squeezing tight, gripping on the barrel of the Webley, increasing the friction,

' - if I just gave the tiniest little squeeze in the right place - '

Both of them know how a gun feels in your hand when it fires. The strength of the kick, the feeling of eruptive power, a just-contained explosion.

Like an orgasm.

' - _click_ ,' breathed Jack.

River came, her head thrown back, a yell of pleasure spilling from her, and she writhed and bucked and shuddered, her clit thrumming with pleasure, her whole cunt pulsing ecstatically as Jack slammed the gun deep into her.

When her moans died away, he slowed, pulled out, and stood up, wrapping his arms round her as she swayed on her feet.

'Oh _wow_ ,' he breathed, against her hair. 'That was fucking amazing.'

She leaned against him, panting, for a few moments, then adjusted her underwear.

'Fuck,' she said, reverently. 'You're _very_ good.'

He smiled, kissed her hair.

Cradled close to him as she is, she can feel the unsubtle swell of his cock against her thigh. She dipped a hand to it idly, and made him gasp. Just the sensation of her fingers curving over him drew a twitch.

'You're about ready to come, aren't you?' she whispered.

He nodded, sharply, unable to speak because she was squeezing.

'OK, fast and dirty, or do you want to be teased some more?'

'Fast and dirty. I can't take any more teasing,' he said, and it was true, he felt so aroused it almost hurt. All the attention he'd been focusing on River, and before that on the Doctor, had a cost, which was that he desperately needed to get off himself.

'Kneel down, then,' said River, taking the pistol out of his hand.

'Really, River - ' he's almost pleading, now. 'No more - '

'Not going to tease you,' she said, 'just giving you something to do with your mouth.'

Thankfully, he dropped to his knees, unbuttoned his trousers, and drew out his aching, swollen cock. He wrapped his hand round the head, gasped as if in pre-emptive relief.

'Ooh, you're going to come so fast,' said River, leaning back on the console. 'You're so big and hard from watching me,' and she lowered the gun, offered it to him.

'But maybe you'll get off faster if you suck this as well - '

It was smudged with her wetness, and he licked it hungrily, sensually, while his right hand struck up a swift, rhythmic stroke along his thick shaft, his left cupping the angle of River's hip as she stood over him.

'Does that feel good?' she purred. 'Tasting me while you fuck your hand? Does it make you want to shoot, right now? Want to fucking come for me?

With River fucking his mouth with the gun, the sound of her voice urging him on, he cast his mind back to the danger-play, the submission, the feel of the Colt brushing the back of his throat, and the luscious taste of her overlaying the gun-metal and oil smell -

It only took a few more seconds for him to come, moaning as the orgasm raged through him, cum spilling in quick pulses over his fingers, his whole body shudering with pleasure.

' - ah - ah - oh - _ohhh_ ,' he breathed, as the climax faded out. He felt drained, deliciously sated.

River sat down on the floor by him, wrapped her arms round him, and he let his head fall on her shoulder while he caught his breath.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

'All right?' she asked, switching into after-care mode.

'Yeah.' He sounds sleepy, but thoroughly contented.

'Finished?' came a voice from the top of the stairs. They were half-hidden behind the console, which meant that by the tome the Doctor had come down with a mug of tea in each hand, Jack had got his trousers buttoned again and River was mostly back in her dress.

'Had fun?' asked the Doctor.

'Yes,' said River, swiftly, glancing at Jack who was still visibly breathless.

'Good.'

That seemed to be all he wanted to know about it. But he'd brought them tea, which was usually a positive sign.

'Hungry?' he asked. 'I brought you something to eat. Good source of potassium, just what you - need - ' he stopped, glared at them, the banana he'd just got out of his pocket held out in front of him.

'What's so funny?'

Jack and River had started to laugh, rather helplessly. When they stopped, they accidentally met eyes and set each other off again.

'It's called an endorphin rush, sweetie,' River assured him, between giggles. 'Honestly.'

The Doctor did not look very convinced.

  
END

  



End file.
